This was fun. Going to the gym and not really sure where to move to get out of everyone’s way. So there’s this guy, big guy, and he’s pushing the earth off his chest on the bench press.
There’s like two feet of space between him and the other guy grunting like he’s trapped in a mouse hole with an angry cat on his trail.
I grab a kettlebell and begin doing something useless to warm up that involved a lot of bending and stretching, but just shy of becoming a Richard Simmons’ routine.
The mirror shows both guys impatiently waiting. I suddenly feel like I’m there as entertainment for them and I pick up my kettlebell and slip into a corner.
Yeah, I’ll admit that standing in the middle of the open floor space probably wasn’t wise, but hold on, I’m going to say it, “Nobody puts baby in the corner.”
Thankfully it got much better after that. Mostly because Atlas set the world back on its axis and grunty-grunter’s wife showed up and they became more interested in what was on TV than my location.
The best part of this workout was when I experienced for the first time in about 7 years that my t-shirt felt more snug around my chest and arms than it did around my gut.
I snapped this pic of a barbell I found on the floor. No actually, I was using it. But, for the first time in so long I cared nothing about how much it weighed, and everything about how it made me feel. It made me feel healthy.
It’s way too early in the fight to proclaim that I’ve reclaimed not just my health, but my joy. Although, this is the best I’ve felt about my chances of taking control in a long time.
It’s an odd shackle when the devil tells you that there’s still too much work left to be done at the desk, and I shouldn’t leave Leah to go exercise. The last few weeks I’ve been able to free myself of the guilt of turning in less than a 16 hour day, to dedicate an hour to my fitness.
So, in reality, who cares how much weight sits on either end of that bar? I’m here and that’s what counts.
Do Good, Scott
FIT@50: An Odd Space For A Kettlebell